Sugar and Spice
by humblefan
Summary: Sam and Dean try to help a little girl who may be more than she seems. ** Update after 3 years **
1. Chapter 1

**CHAPTER 1**

_The red-haired woman dialed the phone as quick as possible. She chanced a glance into the living room, where the dark-haired girl was watching the TV. A white cat sat in her lap, while an orange one walked around them. The girl turned to look, so the woman put a tight smile on her face and turned back into the kitchen. Pacing back and forth, she damned whatever gods were slowing down the connection._

"_Hello."_

_She opened her mouth to reply. "This is John Winchester. I can't be reached. If this is an emergency, call my son, Dean. 785-555-0179. He can help."_

"_John, it's Miranda. I think we're in trouble. Things have been happening here that are frankly scaring the shit out of me. The protections are still in place, but there are signs of attempts to get in. I'm not sure what it is, but you said that I should trust my instincts. Right now my instincts say to get the hell out of here. You've talked about safe places, but I don't know where to go. Please call me back."_

_She slammed the phone down, hoping that a quick response was coming. _

_Putting the smile back on her face, she walked into the living room, where the girl was scratching around the orange cat's ears._

"_Lucy, I want you to go upstairs and grab your overnight bag. We're going to visit Monica."_

_The little girl lifted the white cat off her lap and walked over to Miranda. Reaching for her hand, the little girl frowned and looked at the clock, which read 10:36._

"_I know it's late, honey, but I need you to listen to me and do what I say. Right now," she added, startled by how harsh she sounded._

_The little girl looked surprised, but released the woman's hand. She went into the kitchen and started up the stairs to the second level, followed by the white cat. The orange one moved slower, looking at the woman before it ambled up the stairs._

_Miranda let out a shaky breath and reached for the phone again. Maybe she should try John's son. That's when the lights started flickering. Knowing that there wasn't going to be time for any phone calls, she ran into the kitchen and quickly rummaged through the first drawer she could open._

_By the time the lights were completely out, she had both a flashlight and a small steak knife in her hands. She started up the stairs. "Luce, it's time to go n . . .!"_

_She stopped short when she heard the growl and hiss of an obviously angry cat. The front door burst open. She turned to see a large dark figure in the doorway. _

"_Release it to us, witch. It does not belong to you." _

_Miranda backed up into the kitchen, trying to control her shaking limbs. "You'll never get her. She's protected by my spells. You cannot take her from me."_

"_Then we'll just have to take you from her." _

_Before Miranda could take another breath, her hand raised above her head and the steak knife plunged into her chest. The pain forced air out of her lungs as she pulled it out and stabbed herself again. She was dimly aware of someone pulling on her arm as her legs gave out and she fell hard to the floor. _

_As her vision started to darken, she could make out the little girl sitting next to her with blood on her shirt. 'Lucy, I'm sorry . . ."_

Dean nearly pulled off the road when Sam jerked awake. "Dude, what the hell!?!"

"Wh . . . what?" Sam mumbled, rubbing his eyes.

"Sam, if my baby has so much as a pebble in a tire, I will shave your shaggy head." Dean looked over to his younger brother, who was trying to slow down his ragged breathing. He softened his voice, "Was it a vision?"

"I don't think so."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "You don't think so?"

"Just give me a minute, Dean." Sam slowed down his breathing and focused on the dream. Was it a dream or a vision? He refocused his thoughts. What was the point of having these 'episodes' if he couldn't remember anything to help someone? He concentrated on the fleeting images. The red-haired woman . . . the little girl . . . the phone . . .

"Miranda. A woman named Miranda," Sam shared.

"Oh, Sammy. Maybe this means you're going to get lucky soon. And let me tell you, you sure need a good f . . ."

"No, Dean. She was calling Dad. And she was attacked by . . . something. And there was a little girl. And . . ."

"Whoa, slow down Sam." Dean pulled his beloved Impala over into the gas station they just came upon. He parked and turned the car off. "Let's start at the beginning."

Sam took a deep breath and started again. He noticed the more he shared, the more he remembered. "She was calling Dad. She was really scared. Then, the man or thing showed up. It made her stab herself. There was a little girl. . . Lucy. I think he wanted the little girl."

"Was it the Demon?" Dean demanded.

"I don't think so. But it was definitely not human," Sam looked at his brother. "What's the plan?"

Dean paused. "You said she was calling Dad?" His brother nodded. "Well, then we'll just check his phone."

"His phone? We don't have his phone," Sam snorted.

"Yeah, we do, dumbass. I still have all of Dad's personal effects from the hospital." Dean got out of the car and moved to the trunk.

Sam followed him with a smirk on his face. "Wow, Dean, that is really good thinking."

Dean avoided his brother's eyes. "Well, some of us are just born smart, while the rest of you unlucky bastards have to suffer through school." He sorted through his father's duffel until he found the cell phone. "It's dead."

"That's OK. We can just pick up a charger and listen to his messages. The phone number can tell us where we need to go." Sam moved back to his seat.

Dean slammed the trunk. "Wow, Sammy, that is really good thinking."

"Shut up, Dean."


	2. Chapter 2

Author Note: This story takes place after "In My Time of Dying," but may not reference Season 2 episodes.   
CHAPTER 2 

The brothers had spent the next few hours figuring out where to head to next. After their dad's phone charged a bit, they were able to listen to the woman's message and get the phone number. When they stopped for lunch at a coffee house with wireless access, Sam used his laptop to figure out that the call had come from a Miranda Ogden in Hamilton, Iowa, a small town about 100 miles east of Des Moines.

Dean frowned. "Hamilton? Why does that sound familiar?" He pulled their father's journal out of Sam's bag and started thumbing through it.

"We've looked through that a million times. What are you expecting to find?"

Dean didn't answer as he thumbed through the haphazard pages. Anyone looking over his shoulder at that moment would have thought that the journal was just the ramblings of a mad man. But he wasn't a mad man, just a man driven to obsession by the madness of demons and other unthinkable evils. Over 20 years of his father's life was tied up in that journal. Now it included his death. Sam quickly wiped away an escaping tear before his brother could see it.

"Son of a bitch!" Dean ignored the looks from the other customers as he pushed the journal towards Sam. "There was a house fire seven years ago in Hamilton. Mother was killed. Father and 6-month old baby survived. Dad had found a family like us!"

Sam quickly skimmed the article. "The baby's name was . . . Lucy." 

"OK, this is what we're going to do. We're going to head to Hamilton and figured out what this Miranda chick has to do with this." Dean looked at his watch. He was in full hunter mode now. "If we head out now, we should be able to make it there by tomorrow. We go in reporters or . . ."

Dean's idea was interrupted by a ring coming from Sam's bag. Sam dug in and pulled out their dad's phone. "Hello?"

Dean watched his brother's face closely, trying to figure out who was on the other end of the phone.

"He's unavailable right now. I'm his son, Sam. What can I do for you?"

Dean rolled his eyes. Jesus. Sam was wasting their time with a damn telemarketer! He reached out to take the cell and hang up, but Sam slapped his hand away.

Dean was about to shove his baby brother off the stool and grab that damn phone when Sam's face lost all its color. "Sammy?"

Sam wiped his face with a trembling hand. "We can be there tomorrow. Please do all you can. Thank you."

"What the hell was that?"

Sam started packing up his laptop. "That was the Hamilton Sheriff's Department calling Dad to tell him that his sister and niece have had a terrible accident."

"Sister?"

Sam finally looked at his confused brother. "It appears that Miranda Ogden is our aunt."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

The brothers made it to Hamilton by driving the rest of that day and all night. They quickly checked into a motel that morning and headed over to the Hamilton General Hospital. The deputy Sam had spoken to on the phone was to meet them on the third floor at 9 am.

They hadn't spoken much during the drive. Sam was looking through their father's journal while Dean drove to the hospital, trying to understand what was about to happen. Did they really have more family members? For the longest time, it had just been the three Winchester men, with the loving memory of Mary inspiring them to seek out revenge. They had lost close friends who had been like family. Then, their father left them just as they had found each other. Just as Dean was starting to accept the fact that it was just him and Sammy, this had to happen.

Sam was kept rereading the article about the fire in Hamilton. Another fire. A 6-month old baby survived. Lucy. Was she another one of the "chosen," a child with special abilities that the Demon had plans for? And why was this article in his Dad's journal? Did this mean that he knew about the connection between the house fires and special children? No, Sam remembered how surprised his father was when Sam had a vision in front of him. Wait, he was more angry than surprised.

He was abruptly brought out of his thoughts by the sound of Dean rummaging through the trunk. He looked around to see that they were already in the hospital parking lot. He tossed his father's journal into the back seat and got out. "What are you looking for?"

"I'm not too comfortable with the idea of walking into this with everyone knowing our real names," Dean grumbled. He strapped a small pistol to his ankle.

"What are you expecting in there?" Sam tried to not to smile as his older brother pocketed a flask of holy water in his jacket.

"I want to be prepared for anything."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Deputy Joshua Grimes was a tired man who had the misfortune to get this case. He had been the first on the scene, and spent the next few hours wishing he hadn't been. When he finally tracked down the next of kin, he started to prepare himself to handle possibly hysterical family members. These family members were not what he was expecting.

The two boys listened with blank expressions as he explained up the situation to this point. He responded to a 911 call that was traced to Miranda Ogden's house. That was all the information he had to go on because the caller would not speak. The dispatcher did note that crying could be heard.

He arrived to find the front door open. He found an unconscious Miranda Ogden with apparent self-inflicted knife wounds to her chest in her living room. Her niece Lucy York was lying asleep next to her, bleeding from superficial cuts to her hands and arms. She apparently tried to stop her aunt from hurting herself.

Grimes then introduced the doctor assigned to the case. Lucy was declared stable, but was still asleep. The range and severity of Miranda's injuries, however, put her in the ICU, where machines were basically keeping her alive long enough to speak with family.

"She can't speak due to the ventilator helping her breath, but she does respond to yes/no questions. I believe the only thing keeping her alive is strong will. We've lessened her pain meds so that she will be coherent enough to answer questions, but I must warm you to avoid stressful questions. Her body simply cannot withstand the strain," the doctor added.

Sam and Dean looked at each other. All they had were stressful questions. "Can we see her?"

"I'm afraid she can have only one visitor at a time."

Dean said, "Sam, you should go in." What he didn't say was that Sam knew more about what actually happened than anyone else. He would hopefully get to the bottom of things quicker.

Deputy Grimes looked at him. "I can take you to see your cousin."

"My cousin," Dean snorted. He felt the nudge in his side from Sam and quickly added, "Yeah, let's go check out my cousin."


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER 3**

Sam slowly followed a nurse into the darkened room. The main source of light seemed to be focused around the single bed. The nurse reminded him about asking only yes/no questions and ushered him to the stool next to the bed.

Miranda's chest was moving up and down with a steady rhythm, but Sam knew she was not controlling this on her own. The large tube that started at a machine and ended somewhere in her chest was doing the breathing for her. Her chest was thickly wrapped, covering the numerous stab wounds that should have ended her life immediately. The part of her face that was not covered by the machinery and tubing had a sickly pallor.

Sam marveled at this woman. How could she still be alive? Maybe she was related to Dad. She seemed to be just as stubborn. "Miranda?"

Her eyes fluttered and opened. Sam could see the pain in her eyes and realized he would not have the time to get all his questions answered.

He lowered his voice. "My name is Sam. John Winchester is . . . was my dad. He died a couple of weeks ago. I . . . got your message. My brother and I are here to help you."

Miranda's eyes widened and tears welled up.

Sam knew time was not on their side, but he had to know one thing first. "Are you really my aunt?"

Her head slightly moved from left to right.

Sam was surprised by the twinge of disappointment he felt. "You obviously know what my Dad did. Are you a hunter too?"

Again the small movement from side to side.

"I know that something or something made you do this to yourself. Do you know what it is?"

This time her chin moved down towards her chest.

"It wants something that you have, right?"

Another nod.

"Is it after Lucy?"

Her chin moved up and down a little faster. One of the machines started to beep faster.

"Just relax. It's OK," Sam tried to calm her down before the nurse came back in to make him leave. "My brother is going to see her now. She's safe."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean had to go down to the second floor to the Pediatric rooms. He tried to assure the deputy he could get there himself, but Grimes insisted on accompanying him.

The room itself was quite bright, a large window covering most of the wall across from the door. The rest of the walls were painted with clowns. _Good thing Sammy isn't here_, Dean mused. There was a Hispanic woman sitting next to the hospital, reading a book to the sleeping child in the bed. She looked up at the two men and a panicked look crossed her face. "Is it Miranda?"

Deputy Grimes stepped forward quickly. "No, she's . . . still holding her own. Her family has just arrived. This is . . ." He looked at Dean, realizing that he didn't know this young man's name.

"I'm Dean. Miranda's my aunt." _God, this is weird_.

The woman crossed over to him and took his hand to shake. "I'm Monica. I work with Miranda at the green house. Actually, we own it. We bought it a couple of years ago after working there since high school. We talked about buying it for years, but then we finally decided to do something about it. Carpe diem and all that jazz. Miranda never really talks about family, except her sister, Lucy's mother, of course. And Richard, Lucy's father, God rest his soul. Actually, God rest both their souls, I mean."

Deputy Grimes gently pulled her hand away from Dean's, which she had been shaking the entire time she spoke, which may have been on a single breath. "Has there been any change with Lucy?"

"No, except her friends have returned." Dean followed her gaze to the bed where he was surprised to see two cats. An orange tabby was curled up near the foot of the bed, one eye opening to look up at the group. A white cat was stretched out above the child's head, fast asleep.

"I thought we got rid of them," Deputy Grimes growled.

Monica didn't bother to hide her smile. "They keep showing up. The staff is really stumped on how they keep getting into the hospital, let alone this room. It's like they know that Lucy needs them or something."

Dean frowned. "Are they hers?"

"Well, as much as any animal belongs to us. These two have been with Miranda and Lucy for several years. They just showed up together one day and have stuck around. I tried to explain to her how dangerous it was to just let two strays into your house, but Miranda said that they were just wanted Lucy needed. They're like her guardian angels." The woman paused, wiping an eye with the back of her hand. "Now let's get back to business. Dean, I'll leave you with Lucy for a minute while I get the deputy here to buy me a cup of coffee and fill me in on the investigation"

This time Deputy Grimes frowned. "Investigation?"

Monica looked shocked. "You cannot possibly believe that Miranda did this to herself and Lucy!"

"As I have explained before, the evidence at the scene . . ."

"Scene shmene! I am telling you that there is no conceivable way that Miranda would ever harm anyone. Now granted, there was that one time at the bar when a gentleman said some nasty things and Miranda had no choice but to slug him in the face, but that was completely understandable. You see, we were celebrating our friend Gloria's birthday. Have you met Gloria? Anyway . . . " Monica's voice faded as she led the deputy out of the room and down the hall.

Dean shook his head with sympathy for the poor deputy as he moved to sit next to the bed. The little girl hadn't moved at all since he arrived. If it weren't for the dressings on her hands and arms and the IV, it would have looked like she was just taking an afternoon nap.

"OK, kiddo. You scared the bejeezus out of my brother, so I know that something really bad happened." Dean didn't expect an answer, so he continued, "You're probably a little scared right now. That's OK. Why don't you wake up and tell me what scared you?"

The only response he got was from the white cat that decided this was the moment to check out the new visitor. It leaped on his lap and started rubbing up against Dean's stomach.

He suddenly sneezed. "Great."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sam waited for the machines to return to normality before he started again. "Do you need a break?"

A slight movement from left to right.

"OK, whatever did this to you is after Lucy. I get that. But why?"

The woman tiredly blinked her eyes.

"Oh, sorry. Um, does this have to do with Lucy's mother dying in a fire?"

A quick nod.

"And you've been protecting Lucy from whatever killed her mother?"

Another nod.

"Where is Lucy's father? I mean, does he know about this?"

No response.

"OK, he's out of the picture. Wait, . . . is he dead?"

A small drop of the chin.

Sam lowered his voice. It was time to get to the serious questions. "Does Lucy have a special . . . talent?"

Miranda's eyes widened. Two quick nods.

"Does she have visions?"

Movement from side to side.

"Does she have telekinesis? You know, move things without touching them?"

Before she could respond, the nurse walked into the room. "The doctor will be here shortly to examine your aunt. You need to step out for a moment."

"OK." Sam started to leave, but turned back. "I'm just going to check on Lucy. I'll be back as soon as I can." He wanted to tell her that everything was going to be all right, but he honestly didn't know.

If he had stayed a little bit longer, he would have noticed the telltale flickering of the light over the bed. Miranda noticed it and tried not to panic when the figure of the nurse was replaced by a large dark figure. "It will be ours soon. You are no longer a threat. Your life is forfeit."


	4. Chapter 4

CHAPTER 4 

Dean wished he had taken a picture of his brother's face when he walked into Lucy York's hospital room. The second he saw the clown mural, he actually shuddered! "How is she?"

"She hasn't woken up yet. How about the woman?"

Sam shook his head. "I don't understand how she is still alive, but she is and I was able to . . ." He just noticed the white cat sitting in Dean's lap. "Who's your friend?" His brother sneezed.

"Apparently these are Lucy's cats." He motioned towards the orange one now sitting up at the foot of the bed. He pushed the white one off his lap. It sauntered over to Sam and started circling his legs. "They keep showing up here. What did you find out from Miranda?"

"A little bit more than my vision. She knew what attacked them and that it was definitely after Lucy." Sam looked at the little girl. Could she like him? "The doctor is checking on her now. I'll go back and find out more later. What have you found out?"

Dean started to tell him about Monica, when the orange cat walked towards the head of the bed. Sam, half-listening to his brother complain about talkative women, watched as the lean cat worked its head under the little girl's right arm. It pushed the arm until it was hanging off the bed into Dean's lap.

"What the hell? Stupid cat." The older brother picked up the arm to place it back on the bed.

_Help me._

Dean immediately looked up at the little girl's face. Her eyes were open and her brown eyes were looking right at him. She had placed a hand on his arm. _Help me_. Her lips were not moving.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean ignored Sam and stood up. Still holding the bandaged arm, he asked, "Did you say something?"

_Yes, please help me. Where am I? Where's my aunt? I'm scared._

"Dude, what are you doing?

"Can't you hear her? She's talking."

Sam looked at his brother. "Are you being serious right now? Because I am not in the mood for your crap."

"Yes, I'm serious, damn it."

_Don't cuss._

"Sorry." Dean apologized.

"What?"

Dean took a deep breath. "I can hear her talking. It's like she's whispering."

"Damn it, Dean. What the hell are you talking about?"

Lucy frowned at Sam. _Tell him to stop cussing or I'm going to tell my aunt on him_.

Dean smirked. "You better watch your mouth, Sammy, or you're gonna get in trouble."

Sam opened his mouth to retort, but he saw the little girl's face and stopped. "She's really talking to you? How come I can't hear her?"

Dean looked at the orange cat, which was now rubbing on Lucy's other arm. She started scratching its ears. "I think the cat did it."

No, it's 'cause I'm touching you. I was sick when I was little and I can't talk out loud. I can talk to people when I touch them.

Before Dean could tell Sam what she said, a number of things happened at once. The room door slammed open. The two cats hissed and growled. A dark figure stood in the doorway. And to top it all off, Lucy's eyes were now white, a blinding light.

Dean went to grab his gun strapped around his ankle, but realized he couldn't move. He glanced at Sam who looked just as frozen as him. The dark figure moved effortlessly into the room. It appeared human, but the face was devoid of any emotion. "Release it to us. It does not belong to you."

It looked back at Sam. "You have not been called for yet." Suddenly, Sam flew through the door into the corridor with enough force for his body to dent the wall. The room door slammed shut.

The figure turned to Dean. "Release it to us. It does not belong to you." Dean found himself flying over the bed into the wall space next to the window.

The first sense that came back to him was hearing. Cats screeching. Shouting outside the room. Pain soon followed. Why was he always getting thrown into walls? 'Well, at least there wasn't a bookcase this time,' he thought bitterly.

When he finally remembered how to open his eyes, he saw the dark figure struggling with the white cat. It was doing a thorough job of clawing and biting at the figure's face and neck. There wasn't blood, but the gashes seemed to be weakening it. It staggered towards the window. Dean watched the orange cat launch itself at the figure. All three crashed through the window.

Dean managed to stand up and looked out the window. Down below in the hospital parking were two broken bodies of cats, but no dark figure. "What the hell is going on?!?"

The door burst open and Deputy Grimes came in with his gun drawn. Behind him, Monica was supporting a dazed Sam. "What the hell is going on?"

"Well, for one thing, there's seems to be an echo," Dean muttered. He limped back to the bed, where Lucy was crying. She was taking quick panicked breaths and was going to pass out if she didn't stop. He did notice that her eyes were brown again. "All right, kiddo. It's all over."

Monica rushed over to the child and wrapped her arms around her. "Oh, Lucy, are you all right, baby?"

The girl started gesturing with her hands. Monica frowned, "Your cats are . . . what?"

"They're out there." Dean motioned to the window with the one arm that could still move. Deputy Grimes and Sam went to the broken window and looked down. "Did the suspect do that?" the lawman growled.

Dean was surprised by the deputy's tone. He looked at Monica's face and noticed that she looked deathly ill. "Suspect?"

"Miranda Ogden has been killed."

The silence in the room was broken by the ragged breathing of the devastated child. Dean looked up at his brother. Sam looked back, not knowing what to say. What the hell just happened?


	5. Chapter 5

CHAPTER 5 

The next few hours were spent dealing with the aftermath of the attack. This case was now being handled as first-degree murder and aggravated assault. Lucy was moved to another room (with puppies instead of clown) so a forensics team could search for preliminary evidence. Even the cats were bagged for further examination. Monica stayed with her the entire time, translating her signing for the doctor and nurses.

The brothers were treated for their injuries, which luckily were minor, and questioned by more deputies. It was weird for them to give honest answers for the law. Well, as honest as they could be. Sam told them about the phone message, leaving out the supernatural parts, of course. They didn't have much to say about the suspect, except that he had physically thrown them around, which was another little white lie.

According to the brothers, the suspect didn't say a single word during the attack. But Sam couldn't stop thinking about what the figure said directly to him. _You have not been called for yet._ He knew that there were plans for him, and other children like him, but this was the first time he actually felt the target on his back.

Dean could tell that Sam was thinking about what the figure had said to him, but he couldn't do anything about that now. He instead focused on getting information. Apparently, the staff had found Miranda dead, her breathing tube ripped out. She had suffocated to death. Security was immediately sent to find Deputy Grimes, who was in the basement cafeteria. He and Monica had just exited the elevator in time to see Sam thrown into the hallway.

Dean and Sam were summoned back to Lucy's room, where she was eating lunch with the Hispanic woman. Lucy's face brightened when she saw Dean and motioned for him to sit next to him. He complied, taking half of her sandwich and popping it into his mouth. She tried to look angry, but it didn't look right on her happy face.

"I can't believe my brother is flirting with a 7-year old," Sam thought to himself. It shouldn't have surprised him, though. Dean would do anything for food. He positioned himself at the end of the bed and looked at his "cousin." Miranda had shared that Lucy was special, but how special was she? Something was desperate to get to her. When and where would it try again?

His thoughts were interrupted. "The doctor said that Lucy didn't have to spend another night at the hospital," Miranda piped up. "You guys are more than welcome to come over and hang out. I've got plenty of room, so staying with me a couple of days won't be a problem. I mean, you've probably got to stick around town anyway, so you might as well . . ."

Sam ignored the rest of the woman's babbling when he noticed Lucy put her hand on Dean's arm. She didn't look at him, but Sam could tell that she was talking to him like before.

"That's a sweet offer, Monica, but we've already rented a room at a motel." Dean flashed his signature smile. Then, in a way too casual voice, he added, "How about you, Lucy? Do you want to come with me and Sam?"

Sam could tell that Dean already knew the answer. Lucy moved her hands to sign something to Monica. She obviously didn't know how Lucy could speak through touch. But what was Dean thinking, suggesting them taking in a child?

"OK, baby. How about I call you guys later about dinner or something?"

Lucy reached over and hugged her friend. Monica got her things together and handed Sam a piece of paper with her number on it. He promised to call her later to set something up.

When Monica was finally gone, Dean got down to business. "All right, let's get of here and back to the motel. We've got some serious sh . . . stuff going on here and I for one want to know what the he . . . heck we're dealing with. What?"

Sam tried to hide his smile. His brother was definitely trying to watch his language around Lucy. But he knew that Dean wouldn't be able to keep that up for long. "Nothing. But can I talk to you first? In the hall?"

Dean followed his brother into the hallway. "What is it?"

"OK, first of all, I'm not sure if it is a good idea to take Lucy with us. We don't know what we are dealing with and we could be putting her into more danger. Maybe she should stay with Monica."

Dean's face was like stone. "We are the only ones who have a clue as to what is really going on. We can offer some sort of protection while we figure this shit out. She's staying with us."

Sam could tell that he wasn't going to get anywhere with Dean when he was like this. He was just as stubborn as their father. He had to change tactics. "All right. But have you thought about what that little girl has just been through? Are we really the best people for her right now?"

Dean clenched his jaw. "Sammy, she has lost the last member of her family to some demonic bastard. She is completely alone." He paused. His eyes softened. "We are the only ones who know exactly what she is going through. We are the only people for her now."

Sam was not so surprised by his brother's insight. For all his macho posturing, he was actually quite sensitive to others in pain, especially children. To get him to admit his sympathy, however, was a bit unusual. Sam realized that his brother was starting to get attached to the little girl.

Dean interrupted his thoughts. "Go find out what we have to do to get her signed out. I'm getting real tired of sitting around here on my ass."

"OK, . . . Dr. Phil." Sam couldn't help making a crack.

Dean turned to go back into the room, but Sam thought he heard him mutter something about Oprah.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Dean could tell something was wrong. Lucy was sitting up with her legs crossed on the bed and facing the window. She didn't look back at him, so he walked around the bed and sat next to her.

She was crying again, tears and snot running freely down her face. Dean grabbed the edge of the thin blanket folded at the end of the bed and held it out for her. When she didn't move to take it, he leaned over and wiped her face.

A sudden image of Sam crying hysterically about a dropped ice cream cone hit him. Sam had been a messy crier as a kid, so when he did let it out, there were never enough tissues. Towels, t-shirts, blankets, whatever would work.

"You're having a bad day, aren't you, kiddo?"

The only response was a sniffle.

"Sam is working on getting you out of here." He looked for a reaction to this, but she continued to look out the window and sob. He had a feeling she wasn't listening to him. He placed a hand on her hand.

_. . . randa back. I didn't mean to see the bad man. I won't be bad anymore. I want my aunt back. I don't want to be here anymore. I want to go home. I want Aunt Miranda._

Dean turned her head so she was facing him. "Who is the bad man?"

He's a bad man. I don't want to see him anymore. He makes my eyes hurt. He hurt my cats and my Aunt Miranda. I don't like him. He's a bad man.

"Have you seen the bad man before? I mean, before last night?"

Lucy's little face crinkled up. _No. I've seen other bad men. Like at the school. But this one was really bad. He . . . Is he gonna come back? I don't want to see him anymore! _ She was breathing too fast, like she was about to hyperventilate.

Dean wanted to know what she meant by "other bad men," but knew this wasn't the time. "It's OK, kiddo. I'm not going to let anybody hurt you." He put his arm around her shoulder and squeezed her towards him. "Sam and I . . . we are going to help you. That's what we do. Your aunt called us to help."

Lucy's breathing slowed down. Looking up at him, her little eyes narrowed. _She's your aunt, too, right?_

Oh, crap. "Yeah, kiddo. She called me, didn't she?"

_No. She was calling a man named John._

Oh, shit. Where was a damn nurse to interrupt this? "That's right. John is my dad."

_Where is he?_

"He's . . . dead. A . . . bad man hurt him."

Air in his lungs was forced out by the unexpected hug to his chest. Dean blinked back tears that appeared out of nowhere. He looked down to see Lucy pressing into him.

My daddy's dead, too. It wasn't a bad man. It was in our car. A big truck hit us and my daddy went to sleep and didn't wake up. He's with my mommy in Heaven. Do you think Miranda is with them, with my mommy and daddy?

"I'm sure they're all together, kiddo." He put an arm around here.

Dean didn't know how long they sat there. He found himself rubbing the little girl's back. Soon her breathing indicated that she had fallen asleep. He laid her down on the bed and covered her with the thin blanket. She looked so relaxed, so different from the grieving and hysterical face earlier that day.

Looking at her sleeping peacefully, Dean suddenly got angry. Why the hell was this happening to her? She was just a kid. She hadn't done anything to anyone. Just like Sam, she didn't deserve this trouble.

Behind him the room door open. Before he knew it, Dean had pulled out the small pistol from the ankle holster and was pointing it at the intruder.

"Dude, what the hell?" Sam almost wet himself, facing a very scary looking Dean and the barrel of a gun.

Dean felt stupid for his reaction, but he wasn't about to tell his baby brother. "Where the hell have you been?" he grumbled.

Sam looked at the sleeping child and sighed. "I had to meet with the coroner to sign some papers. The funeral home is picking up the body later today. The doctor gave me the meds for Lucy's injuries. The nurses found me some clothes for Lucy, since her clothes have now been taken in for evidence. Deputy Grimes caught me and wants to meet some time tomorrow to talk about what we're going to do with Lucy. And finally, I found out where they lived. We'll have to get some of Lucy's stuff and maybe find something that can explain what we're dealing with." He dropped the plastic bag with the clothes on the end of the bed. He felt drained dealing with all these responsibilities. They were getting in this real deep and he was starting to get worried that walking away was not going to be easy.

They worked together quietly on changing Lucy into the clothes Sam was given. She woke up enough to help out, but soon fell back to sleep. Sam was putting on her shoes when a nurse walked in with a wheelchair. Without saying a word, Dean just picked the little girl up and carried her out of the room. Sam smiled politely to the protesting nurse and followed his brother out.

The trip back to the motel was uncharacteristically quiet. Lucy was laid out in the back seat with Dean's jacket covering her. The trip took a little longer than it should have. Dean drove with more care than Sam thought was possible.

Once at the motel, Dean once again took the child into his arms. This time he followed Sam up to the door and waited for his brother to unlock it. For some unknown reason, the light switch was on the other side of the room, so Dean waited for Sam to work his way across to turn it on. Waiting at the door and shifting Lucy a little bit, Dean fought a sudden urge to sneeze. Then, something rubbed against his calf. "Sam?"

The light finally came on and Dean looked down to see a white cat rubbing his legs. No, not just any white cat. It was Lucy's cat from the hospital. Dean looked at his brother, who was staring at an orange cat cleaning itself on one of the beds. The orange cat looked up at both brothers, and then returned to its work.


	6. Chapter 6

A/N: The behaviors exhibited by the cats are based on my own kitties. I swear to the writing gods! CHAPTER 6 

"Batman and Robin? Paris and Nikki? Jekyl and Hyde? Achoo!"

Sam chuckled as he walked through the motel room door. The orange cat sat on the windowsill, now looking over at him instead of the parking lot. Lucy was sitting on one of the beds. The white cat was in her lap, purring loudly at the thorough petting it was getting. Dean was sitting on the edge of the other bed. He was rubbing at his eyes, which were getting more and more red.

It had been less than an hour ago that they discovered the two felines in their room. Lucy had woken up when Dean spoke and jumped out of his arms. She scooped up the white cat rubbing its legs and started scratching its head. The orange cat, finished with its tongue bath, walked to the edge of the bed. Lucy sat next to it and scratched under its chin.

Sam looked at Dean. "I thought they were dead."

The older brother knelt down in front of Lucy and the cats. "They were." He reached out and touched the white cat. It rubbed itself against his hand. "I would swear on a stack of bibles that these are the same cats."

Lucy touched his hand. _Of course they are, silly. They always come back._

Dean repeated to Sam what she said. Then he asked her, "What do you mean that they always come back?"

They came back after that bad man hurt Aunt Miranda. And they came back after the scary man at my school hurt them. They are my special cats. That's what Aunt Miranda calls them.

Sam motioned Dean over towards the door. In a low voice, "This seems to be pretty normal for her. Do you think they're safe?"

"They were protecting her back at the hospital. And they don't seem pretty menacing now," Dean added, watching the little girl administer more scratches and rubs. "This does put a whole new spin on that whole nine lives thing, doesn't it?"

Dean expected the patented Sammy eye-roll about his little quip, but was surprised to see his brother's face look thoughtful. "What?"

"In my vision, he called her a witch . . ."

"Great. Now we're dealing with Glinda the good witch. Did you happen to see any flying monkeys?"

"Jerk."

"Bitch."

"I'm serious, Dean. We know that there's always a grain of truth behind urban legends. Why not the same with folk lore or old wives' tales?"

Dean couldn't think of anything witty to say, so he just nodded. This was turning into the weirdest job. Girls with glowing eyes. Cats that come back from the dead. Now, witches? This was like a bad Stephen King story.

He felt a hand on his arm. _I'm hungry. Can I have some chicken nuggets?_

Sam put the bags of food he had been sent out to get down on the table next to the window. He tossed a small plastic bag to his brother. "I got you something to help with your allergy."

Dean snorted. "Dude, I don't have allergies." He tossed the bag onto the table.

Sam smiled at his stubborn brother. "So, any luck?"

Dean had agreed to stay behind and keep Lucy busy. He was trying to guess the names of her cats. A quick exam revealed they were both males, but that didn't stop Dean from naming famous couples. He also had the unfortunate job of calling Monica to inform her that they would not be joining her for dinner. Those were the longest 10 minutes of his life.

"Not yet. Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid?" he asked the little girl.

She simply smiled and shook her head. Lifting the now sleeping cat out of her lap, she came over and sat at the table. Dean searched through the bags and found the little box of nuggets for Lucy. The orange cat left its spot and leaped onto the table, snaking its way around the bags.

Sam picked up the lean cat and put it on the floor. "How about Hansel and Gretel?"

The brothers looked at the little girl, who just shook her head. They sat and ate their dinner, the only conversation surrounding possible names. "Punch and Judy? Ozzie and Harriet? Sampson and Delilah? The Captain and Tennille?"

Dean noticed that his guesses received smiles while Sam's garnered either a shrug or a shake of the head. He could tell that Sam was disappointed that Lucy hadn't spoken to him like she had with Dean. Why she was not communicating with his brother like she did with him?

"Luke and Laura? Frodo and Sam? Bert and Ernie?"

_You're silly._ Lucy reached over and took one of Dean's French fries. _Watch this._

The moment she picked up the fry, Dean noticed the orange cat, which was sitting back on the windowsill, perk up his head. Lucy tossed the fry across the room. Before it hit the floor, the orange cat darted out and caught it in his mouth!

"Holy crap!"

Lucy frowned at Sam.

"Sorry. But that was a cool trick. Can I try?"

All he got was a shrug. Sam looked to his brother, who nodded his encouragement. He picked up a long fry and tossed it towards the cat. Unfortunately, the cat was either done playing or did not care for that particular fry. Four pairs of eyes watched the greasy potato sail through the air and land in front of the cat.

"I guess I don't have the right touch," Sam muttered. He gathered the trash from their dinner and dumped it in the trashcan. "I left some stuff in the car." He left the room.

Dean looked at Lucy. "Ok, kiddo, what's the deal?"

The little girl looked confused.

"Did Sam do something to pi . . . make you mad?

She touched his arm. _I'm not mad at him. It's just . . ._

"What is it, kiddo? You know he's one of the good guys, right?" Maybe she saw something when her eyes were doing that headlight impression. Sam's biggest fear was becoming evil, a pawn in the yellow-eyed demon's war.

_He looks at me funny._

"What do you mean funny?"

_Like he feels sorry for me._

Dean sighed. "Well, he probably does, 'cause he knows what you are going through. You see, Sam is . . . special, like you are."

_Really?_

"Yep. He has dreams about stuff that ends up really happening."

The door opened and Sam walked in with their duffels and a paper bag. He passed the bag to Dean. "I got her some stuff at the store when I got your allergy medicine."

"I don't have allergies."

Sam smirked, but didn't reply. Dean looked in the bag and started to pull out the cat food cans. The white cat immediately up woke up and joined the orange cat, rubbing against Dean's legs. A powerful sneeze escaped him before he could stop it. He ignored the growing smile on his brother's face as he pulled the tops off two cans and put them down under the table. He barely got his hands out of the way as the felines attacked the cans.

Dean then pulled out a coloring book and a box of crayons. He handed them to Lucy, who gave Sam a surprised look. Then, something amazing happened. She smiled. At Sam. She made a quick gesture with her hand, touching her chin.

"Sammy, you either just got thanked or you got told off by a seven-year old girl." Dean sneezed again.

"Shut up, Dean." He knew that sign meant thank you. He smiled and nodded.

The little girl laid belly down on one of the beds. The white cat, having finished his can, leaped onto the bed and sat next to Lucy. He started his post-dinner bath. The orange cat was still eating under the table.

Sam decided to use this quiet time to find out more about the possible truth behind the old adage "a cat with nine lives." He set his drink next to the laptop on the table and started searching websites.

Dean got the subtle impression from his two roommates that any conversation was not going to happen. He plopped down on the other bed. The TV remote was on the table between the beds. Knowing there was no chance to watch any porn with Lucy in the room, he flipped around until he found an old western he remembered seeing as kid.

He woke up to a crayon hitting his nose. He looked down to see a few sitting on his chest. He glanced over to Lucy. She was rubbing the white cat's belly. He was completely stretched out. She put a finger to her lips and pointed to Sam. Dean saw that his brother was still at his computer, but was complete oblivious to the attack that was about to happen.

Well, attack was not the right word. The orange cat was sitting on the other end of the table. With his belly close to the table, he was slowly creeping towards Sam. Sam was so engrossed with what was on the laptop screen, he didn't notice the orange cat stretch his neck, turn his head to the side, and slowly pull the straw from Sam's drink out of the cup.

Sam chose to take a sip at this moment. "What the hell?"

"Watch your language Sammy," Dean laughed. Lucy clapped her approval. Then she made clicking sounds with her tongue. The orange cat quickly came to her and deposited the straw. With a wink to Dean, she tossed the straw. Again the orange cat chased down the flying projectile before it touched ground.

"Are we sure that he's even a cat? He fetches better than any dog I've ever seen," Sam wondered.

The brothers watched as the orange cat carried the straw in its mouth back to Lucy, who pulled the straw out and tossed it again. This game continued for a few minutes until the white cat decided to join it. Apparently this was only a one-cat exercise. The orange cat walked back to the table with the straw in its mouth. It leaped onto Sam's lap, dropped it, and jumped back down.

Dean looked at the alarm clock on the table between the beds. It said 9:36. "Hey, we should probably be calling it a night if we're gonna hit the house early tomorrow."

Getting ready for bed included changing the bandages on Lucy's arms. Dean skillfully distracted the little girl with more guesses while Sam applied antibiotic cream and wrapped her arms.

"Jake and Ellwood? Thelma and Louise? Siskel and Ebert?"

"It's Ebert and Roeper," Sam corrected.

"Whatever."

Dean pulled out an old T-shirt that he managed to shrink the last time he did laundry. While Lucy changed into it, he slid his knife under the pillow on the bed he would be sharing with Sam. Lucy was swimming in the shirt, but it would work for a nightgown. The brothers took turns in the bathroom. By the time they were done, Lucy had already gotten under the blanket of her bed. Sam placed a plastic cup of water on the table in case she needed a drink during the night.

The cats prepared themselves for bed as well. The orange curled up on the end of Lucy's bed. The white cat stretched out on the pillow above Lucy's head. Dean realized that this was the same position they were in when he first saw them at the hospital.

" 'Night, Lucy."

Lucy replied with a yawn and a tired smile. She closed her eyes.

"Good night, Dean."

"Be sure to keep your hands to yourself. No Brokeback moments, okay?"

"You're not that hot."

"Yeah, right. Night."


	7. Chapter 7

_A/N – So sorry for the delay! The end of a school year is pretty hectic for a teacher and I've been thoroughly enjoying the start of summer vacation (aka – lots of sleep!). I promise to be more diligent with my writing. Thanks to all who have written nice things to me and I hope I don't disappoint you in the future._

CHAPTER 7 

Dean could not believe what he was seeing. Well, he could believe it because when it came to the ladies, he was the man!

He was lying in a really long bed, a hospital bed by the looks of the room around him. At the end of the bed were two hot looking girls, a blonde and a redhead. And from Dean could see, the only thing they were wearing where those skimpy aprons candy strippers wear.

"Hey ladies. Are you here to take my temperature?" It wasn't the smoothest line he had ever used, but it seemed to work. The two ladies smiled and started slowly crawling towards him. It was a beautiful sight.

The blonde slid up next to him while the redhead straddled his legs. Without a word the redhead started massaging Dean's thighs. She worked his hands onto his stomach, pushing his t-shirt up.

Dean was enjoying the foreplay but really wanted the show to get on the road. He went to sit up, but found himself unable to move. He couldn't even move his head.

The blonde's head moved into his sight, her tongue wetting her lips. She moved in. Expecting the hottest kiss he had gotten in a while, Dean was surprised when she started licking his cheek. "Ah, honey, you don't have to do that. I'm ready right now." She simply smiled and kept licking, moving down to his neck.

Meanwhile the redhead moved her hands up to his chest. She was basically lying on him, with her face close to his. Dean closed his eyes and relaxed his lips, ready for the mind-blowing kiss that was coming his way.

A sudden pain on the bridge of his nose forced Dean's eyes open. He looked into a pair of black and yellow eyes surrounded by orange hair. "Oh sh . . ." The orange cat head-butted him again, causing him to see little points of light. That's when he felt a rough tongue licking his neck. He looked over to see the white cat licking away. "Jesus!" he whispered harshly.

"Dean?"

"Nothing, Sam. Just the damn cats. Go back to sleep."

"Mmph."

Dean sat up and swung his legs out of bed, very glad he didn't have to climb over his brother in his current condition. The two cats immediately jumped down. He stumbled to the bathroom. He was sure to shut the door to keep the bathroom light from waking up Lucy. He took care of business that his dream had started. "A friggin' wet dream about cats. God, I've got to get laid," he mumbled as he turned out the light.

The room was dimly lit from a source outside. On the way back to his bed, he could make out two small figures by the room door. "OK, Cheech and Chong, I get it." Dean continued to the door and cracked it open. The two cats scurried out. Dean used the light from the full moon to look at his watch. It was 3:17. Sighing deeply, Dean had to remind himself that these cats were not evil, that he should not pull out his gun and shoot them. What would that be called anyway? Felinicide? Kitticide? Justifiable homicide?

The return of the cats pulled him out of his murderous thoughts. He shut the door and made his way back to the bed he was sharing with Sam. That's when he heard the sobbing.

Dean immediately went to Lucy's bed. She was lying on her side, facing the wall. "Lucy?"

When he didn't get a response, he sat on the edge and touched her shoulder. The little girl was still asleep. He could feel her shaking and crying.

He suddenly flashed to an image of 5-year old Sam crying in his sleep in another dungy motel room. He always had nightmares if he went to sleep before Dad came back from working.

He started to stroke her shoulder. He noticed her forehead was damp with sweat. "Hey, kiddo. You're just having a nightmare. It's OK." He pushed hair off of her forehead, frowning at the heat he felt.

Lucy opened her eyes and looked up at him. It took a little bit for her to focus on him, then sat up quickly and looked around.

"We're at the motel, remember? You're all right now. You were just having a bad dream." He continued to rub her shoulder as he spoke softly. "I think you might have a fever. I'm gonna get you some aspirin. OK? I'll be right back."

Dean crossed the dimly lit room to his bag, where he knew he should have some kind of pain reliever. He brought what he found into the bathroom. Turning on the light, he scanned the label to figure out how much to give her. Before leaving, he quickly dampened the end of a towel with cool water.

Sitting next to her again, he handed Lucy one capsule and the cup of water Sam had left for her. When she finished taking the medication, he wiped her face with the towel. "Does that feel better?"

She nodded tiredly. She lay back down, this time facing him.

Dean wasn't sure what to do next. If this was 5-year old Sammy, he would just lay down with him and put him back to sleep, telling him that Daddy would be home soon. But this was not Sammy. "Um, do you remember what you were dreaming about? Do you want to talk about it?"

He cringed at how stupid that sounded. Who the hell wants to talk about nightmares? They're usually scary and upsetting. You'd sooner want to forget all about them than think about them again.

Surprisingly, she reached out and touched his arm. _It was the bad man. He kept saying that it's my fault that Aunt Miranda's . . . gone. That I make everyone go away. That I'm always going to be alone_.

He could tell that she was getting upset again. He slouched down so he was lying next to her on his side. "You're not alone. I'm here. Sam's here. Those two pieces of sh . . . fur are here. You're not alone, Lucy." He pushed the hair off her forehead again. He started rubbing the skin between her eyebrows with the side of a finger. He used to do this with Sam to help him sleep. Lucy's eyes started to droop. Pulling up the sheet and blanket to cover her, he started to get off the bed.

_No_. A small hand grabbed his arm. _Please stay with me_.

"Sure, kiddo. No problem." _Or at least 'til you fall asleep_. He laid on his back, putting his arm out across the top of her pillow. Lucy shifted so her body was next to his. Dean dropped his arm behind her and rubbed circles on her back.

The next few minutes Dean continued to rub Lucy's back. He thought about the last time he was in this position. It was probably that time when Sam broke his ankle. Despite the pain meds he was given at the hospital, Sam still complained about the ache and insisted he would never be able to get to sleep. A mere ten minutes of Dr. Dean's Magic Hands found his baby brother drooling on his pillow.

The slow and even breathing told Dean that his magic touch still worked. He sighed deeply. He would wait a few more minutes before attempting to return to his bed. He was hoping for a few more hours of sleep before heading to Lucy's house. It was probably going to be really hard on the little girl, and Dean wanted to be ready to help her. That meant not losing his temper because he was tired and cranky.

He felt something brush his head and looked up to see the white cat stretching out on Lucy's pillow. Then, there was a slight dip at the end of the bed. Dean looked down to see the orange cat curling up by his feet.

"Night, Bonnie and Clyde."

_A/N: This chapter is shorter than I first planned. But that trusty Catholic guilt made me get this out. Hope it was worth the wait._


	8. Chapter 8

CHAPTER 8 

Sam woke slowly, trying to figure out where he was. A bed. A motel. Why was he sore? Wait, he remembered. They were in Iowa. Something to do with cats and dark figures that like to throw people across rooms.

He climbed out of bed and stumbled into the bathroom. By the time he finished, he realized he hadn't climbed over Dean. Didn't his brother sleep in his bed last night? And why did they do that?

He stepped out of the bathroom. What he saw caught his breath. Dean was sleeping in the other bed with Lucy curled up against him. He had his arm on her back. The white cat was lying above her head and the orange one was curled up by Dean's leg, both still asleep.

Sam felt his chest tighten. What was he suddenly feeling? Was it jealousy? This was the Dean he remembered, his Dean, his big brother who was there to scare away the nightmares. He always felt safe with Dean when he was little. Even when their dad was around, it was Dean that Sam looked to for protection and reassurance.

Maybe the reaction he was feeling was regret. He looked at the peaceful face of the little girl. Sam knew he could never feel that safe again, not with knowing the evil that is out there waiting for them. He had seen too much to ever be that innocent again.

He picked up his bag and returned to the bathroom. He would let them have a few more moments of peace.

When he was done with his shower, he got dressed. Dean and Lucy were still sleeping. The orange cat was awake now, watching Sam as he moved around the room, looking for his sneakers. He grabbed the keys for the Impala off the table and left.

When he returned with some breakfast and a newspaper, Dean was sitting on the bed, pulling on his boots. "Where's Lucy?"

Dean lifted his chin towards the bathroom. He grunted and held out his hand. Sam handed him one of the coffees he had bought. "You need to see this before she comes out." Sam handed his brother the newspaper.

Dean worked on focusing his bleary eyes on the headline. LOCAL WOMAN ATTACKED IN HOSPITAL. There were also pictures of Miranda and Lucy. "Oh, shit."

"It mentions the attacks at both the house and the hospital. We're not mentioned by name, but there is something about 'family members' being present at the hospital." Sam absently scratched the head of the white cat that snuck into his lap. "Did something happen last night?"

"She had a nightmare or something. Let's head to the house before the media find us here."

Sam frowned. "That's the first place they'll look for us."

"Yeah, but at least we can try to find out some answers there before that deputy shows up. I want to get this son of a bitch."

_Then what?_ Sam thought. Before he could ask it out loud, Lucy came out of the bathroom, dressed in the same borrowed clothes from the hospital. The orange cat followed her out.

Dean folded up the newspaper quickly. "I thought you were going to take a shower."

She touched his arm. _I want to go home and take a bath. Can I go home now?_

"Yeah, kiddo. We're gonna take you home right now. Let's go."

The brothers packed up their stuff while Lucy ate a doughnut. Dean put the newspaper under some clothes before zipping up his bag. Then, Lucy helped Dean load the car so Sam could check out.

Finally, they were ready to go. Lucy was buckled in the back seat. Dean started the Impala, thinking he needed to get her washed pretty soon. Sam made his customary last walk-through to check that they didn't leave anything behind. That is when he discovered a slight problem.

The two cats were sitting on Lucy's bed, watching him. He went to pick them up when they both hissed at him. "Whoa, OK then." He walked to the open door. "Um, Lucy, I need your help."

"What's the matter, little brother? Can't handle a couple of little kitties?"

"Dean, do you remember what these little kitties did at the hospital?"

"Oh, yeah."

Lucy opened the back door and made clicking sounds with her tongue. The two cats dashed out of the room and into the back seat.

Sam got into the car, giving his brother a look that clearly said _Don't say a thing_. Of course that didn't keep Dean from chuckling as he pulled out of the parking lot.

With Lucy guiding him, Dean drove through the town without any problems. Despite the early hour, there seemed to be plenty of people out going about their business. He tried to remember what day it was. Then it hit him. They had only been about 24 hours. So much had happened in a small amount of time. But then again, that's the way life was for the Winchesters.

"So when did you cave in?"

Dean mentally shook himself awake. "What?" Sam repeated his question.

"Dude, what the . . . what are you talking about?"

"You've haven't sneezed once. You finally something, huh?"

"No." Dean thought back to how he was woken up from his dream. "I think the cats cured me." He looked into the rearview mirror. The white cat was curled up in Lucy's lap. Did it just wink at him?

Lucy indicated for him to turn at the next street. _My house is the white one with all the flowers_. They were on the edge of town now, where homes were now more spread out. This particular street held only a half a dozen houses. The house Lucy spoke of stood at the end of the street. It was an ordinary small two-story house with a wraparound porch. But it wasn't the house that the brothers stared at. It was the flowers that surrounded the house. Well, surrounded wasn't strong enough. Just in the front yard there were hanging flowers, potted plants, flowering bushes, and rectangular plots. Every color imaginable was represented.

Despite the beautiful vegetation around the house, it could not block out the shockingly ugly police tape covering the front door. Sam had forgotten that the house was still a crime scene, and a glance at his brother showed him he wasn't the only one. A quick look over his shoulder showed Lucy busy with rubbing the orange cat's belly. Dean quickly backed the car up so some hanging plants blocked the view of the door.

"Hey, kiddo. Do you have a key to the house? Or know where there is a hide-a-key?" Dean said with false cheer in his voice. Lucy shook her head. "OK, well, Sam is gonna take care of that while you help me with our stuff."

Sam was already out of the Impala, headed for the front door. He ripped off the police tape and stuffed it in his pocket. Using the lock picking tools, he had the door opened in about seven seconds.

He looked back to see Dean and Lucy standing on the porch, carrying some bags. Her eyes were wide and her mouth was open.

"She wants to know how you did that."

Sam smiled. "Maybe I can show you how to do that if you show me how to play fetch with your cats."

Lucy touched his arm. _You've got a deal_. She pushed past him and opened the door.

Now the brothers encountered the second reason they should have waited for the deputy to let them in later in the day. There, on the wood floor about ten feet ahead of them, was a rust-colored stain.

Lucy dropped the bag she was holding. She doubled over and threw up the doughnut she ate that morning.

"Shit!" Dean dropped what he was carrying and rushed into the house. She was now heaving and sobbing where she stood. He picked her up and carried her past the stain towards the living room.

He looked back at Sam. "I'm gonna take her upstairs. Can you take handle this?"

Sam could only nod his head. He couldn't believe how quick this day went bad. He watched his brother carried the little girl up the stairs. The white cat sped past him, following them.

He looked down to see the orange cat sitting next to him. "Maybe coming here wasn't the best thing to do." He was surprised to find himself disappointed when there was no response.

He moved into the house, shutting the front door. He picked up the items Dean and Lucy dropped and put them in the living room. He found some cleaning supplies to clean up where Lucy had been sick. When it came time to deal with the stain, Sam decided to use an area rug from the kitchen to cover it up. He tried not to think about how that stain got there, but he kept flashing back to the dream. This is where Miranda stabbed herself. He found himself looking at the front door, expecting to see the dark figure standing there. But instead of the dark figure it was the orange cat that stood in front of the door, watching him.

"How are we going to fix this?" he whispered to the cat. Now he knew things were not going well. He had resorted to getting advice from a cat.

But this time it seemed the orange cat did have a response. It walked past him, rubbing his leg, and towards the stairs. It paused at the bottom of the steps and looked back at him.

"You want me to go upstairs?"

The cat answered by climbing the first two steps and pausing.

"All right. Lead the way."


	9. Chapter 9

CHAPTER 9

A/N#1: I'm a bad, bad author. I've haven't updated this story in quite a while (almost a freakin' year!). I have no good excuse, so I won't even bother giving one. I just hope that I haven't lost any of the readers who were kind enough to write such lovely reviews or put this story on their alert list!

A/N#2: Since it's been so long, I thought I'd remind folks that this story takes place early in Season 2, so no deal, no Bella, no Ruby, and no Dean in hell. sob

**CHAPTER 9**

When Sam reached the top of the stairs, he saw the orange cat was already at the other end of the hallway. The hallway was lit by morning sunlight coming in through a window at the end. There were only four doors, two on each side. Three of them were closed. He could hear water running and Dean's voice from the open doorway.

He stopped by the open door. The white cat was sitting on the sink, watching Dean wiping down the little girl's face. She was sitting on the edge of the tub. Her face was red and blotchy. She was sobbing quietly with her eyes closed. "Dean? Can I do anything?"

His older brother looked up. "Yeah, could you find some towels? I'm gonna run her a bath."

"Sure."

When Sam turned, he noticed the orange cat sitting in front of one of the closed doors. It stretched up onto its hind legs and swatted at the doorknob. "Are you trying to tell me something, Garfield?" He opened the door and wasn't surprised to find towels and linens.

Grabbing a couple of towels, he turned back to the bathroom. Lucy was sitting on the closed toilet, stroking the white cat, which was now lying inside the sink. Dean was adjusting the temperature while the water filled up the tub.

"Okay, um . . . " Dean straightened up. "I think it's okay now. Um, do you

need help . . . you know, getting in?"

Sam couldn't help but smile at the look on Lucy's face. She stood up and put her hands on her hips. "I think Lucy's a big girl and can take a bath by herself," he easily translated.

Dean smirked and held his hands up. "Okay, kiddo, I get it. Just call out if you need some help."

This time Sam flat out laughed at the girl's face. She pointed to her throat and rolled her eyes.

"Oh, right, . . . well . . . I mean . . ."

Sam decided to have pity on his big brother. "Lucy, how about we check on you in about ten minutes?" He placed a hand on her shoulder.

_I can do this by myself. I am seven, you know._

Sam whispered, "Dean's just trying to help. He didn't mean anything by it."

She rolled her eyes again, but nodded in understanding. She gave Dean a quick hug then pushed him out of the room. She turned to Sam and raised her eyebrows.

"I'm going, I'm going." He followed his brother into the hallway and closed the door behind him.

"Did you take care of . . . downstairs?" Dean asked quietly.

"Yeah."

"Salt the windows?"

Sam shrugged. "Sorry, forget. Besides that would be pretty hard to explain to Deputy Grimes."

"Oh yeah." Dean looked at his watch. "He'll be here soon. I was hoping to hammer out our story with Lucy before he got here and started asking questions. Dude, are you listening to me? Sam?"

The younger Winchester moved past him, looking at something at the end of the hallway. Dean turned to see the orange cat standing on its back legs, batting at the doorknob on one of the closed doors.

"What are you doing?" Dean asked, following him to the door.

"I think he wants us to go in here," Sam answered.

Dean leaned against the wall. "You're taking orders from a cat now?"

"I'm desperate for intelligent conversation, okay?"

Sam turned the knob and opened the door. Finding the wall switch, he flipped it, flooding the room in light. A large bed sat in the center with end tables on either side. Under the window was a writing desk with a large armoire next to it.

"This must be Miranda's room," Dean muttered. He walked in and picked up a frame off one of the end tables. It looked like it was taken during a birthday part, with Lucy wearing a party hat. She was looking at her aunt, who was laughing.

Sam watched the orange cat cross the room, leap onto the desk, and rub up against the armoire. Understanding that this cat does not do anything without good reason, he tried the doors. They were locked.

Dean looked over to see his brother kneeling down and trying to pick open the armoire doors. "This is not the time for a panty raid, you perv."

Sam ignored his brother, struggling with the flimsy locking mechanism.

"What's the hold up?"

Click. Sam pulled the doors open. The cabinet was filled with books, both modern and archaic tomes. He quickly scanned the spines. "This explains what he meant."

"Who meant what?"

Sam turned to his brother. "In my vision, the figure called Miranda a witch. Look at these titles. She's got runecasting, astromancy, tarot cards, oneiromancy, numerology. All categories of divination.

Dean shrugged. "So she was trying to interpret signs or get information. A lot of New Age hippie crap. That doesn't mean she was growing warts or riding brooms."

Pulling out some of the books, Sam continued, "Well, does every new age hippie study Shamanism, Gnosticism, Stregheria, Wicca, Shinto?"

"Okay, okay, so she was a New Age pagan hippie witch. Is any of this gonna help us figure out what's going on?"

"Maybe." Sam replaced the books he had pulled out and removed some others. "See if you can find a journal or diary or something in the desk."

Dean sighed, but started opening the desk drawers. The orange cat lay on the top, watching him. He soon found a thick spiral notebook and flipped it open. Their father had included the study of ancient languages in their education of the supernatural world, but he couldn't read anything written on these pages. "Hey, Sam, is this Hebrew?" He passed the notebook to his brother.

"I don't know. It might be Arabic. Look, she's got a couple of books written in the same language."

"Pull those books. We'll start with those." He looked around the room. "I don't see a computer. Was there one downstairs?"

Sam stood up. "No. We'll have to hit the library." Reading the hesitant look on his brother's face, he continued, "I could just go. You could stay here with Lucy."

The chimes of a doorbell suddenly sounded. The orange cat leaped off the desk and walked out of the room. "Yeah, maybe, I don't know. We'll see how she's doing later."

Sam grinned. "You are so whipped."

"Shut up. Go get the door. I'm gonna check on the kid."


	10. Chapter 10

_Okay, okay, I've got lots of excuses: different computer which resulted in losing research; changed job assignment which resulted in a building move; writer's block which resulted in utter frustration! I hope this chapter matches the tone and style of the others. It's kind of short, but hopefully it makes up for my THREE YEAR ABSENCE!_

_In case you had been following this story before, here's a reminder that this piece takes place early Season 2. That means no Cold Oaks, no trips to Hell, no demon blood, no seals, no angels. YED is still the big baddie. This will be AU._

**CHAPTER 10**

"Dean!" 

He had just gotten to the top of the stairs when he heard his brother yell for him. He pulled out his gun and ran back down the stairs where he saw Sam on his knees with his hands up. Deputy Grimes and three other officers had their guns drawn.

"Drop your weapon and get your hands in the air," Deputy Grimes commanded.

"Okay, okay," Dean said, slowly complying. "Ah, we didn't break in or anything. The kid knew where the hideaway key was, I swear."

"Dean Winchester, there is a warrant for your arrest for attempted murder in St. Louis."

Sam closed his eyes and sighed in defeat. He knew that the mess with the shapeshifter would someday come back to bite them in the ass. Why did they use their own names? How the hell were they going to get out of this one?

To his surprise, Dean lightly chuckled. "Oh, that old thing."

Deputy Grimes blinked. "That old thing? Son, this is a serious matter."

"No, no, I get it. Believe me, I get it," Dean agreed, with an innocent look on his face. "This happens all the time. Right, Sammy."

"Ah . . . yeah." Sam hoped his face didn't show any of his utter confusion.

"Can I get something from my wallet?"

"Do it slowly."

Dean reached into his back pocket and pulled out a small white card. "Having the same name as that psycho has made my life a living hell. I can't tell you how many times I've had to sit in a jail waiting for someone to figure out I'm not him. I finally had to get a lawyer. Just give him a call and he can sort this whole mess out."

Deputy Grimes took the card and look at it. "All right. Both of you sit down while I make the call." He left to use the radio in his jeep.

The next few minutes were torture for Sam. He sat beside his brother on the couch, wanting to know who this lawyer was. What were they going to do if this didn't work? But it was kind of hard to do with three deputies staring them down.

Dean, however, looked as calm as could be.

Fifteen minutes later, Deputy Grimes returned. He motioned to the other deputies to leave and handed the card back to Dean. "Spoke to your lawyer and he faxed over a letter from the Circuit Attorney's office in St. Louis. So sorry for the misunderstanding."

Dean smiled and patted the officer on the shoulder. "No need, sir. I get it. You were just doing your job. You know, serve and protect and all that jazz."

Sam nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we totally understand. Hey, Dean, we should check on Lucy."

"Oh, right. Excuse us, Deputy Grimes. We'll be right back."

Sam could hardly wait until they reached the top of the stairs. "Dude! What the hell just happened?" he whispered anxiously, pulling Dean to a stop.

"Nothing that our fabulous attorney couldn't handle." Dean handed him the business card.

"Robert Singer, Esquire?"

"That's right. Didn't you know that in addition to being the owner of a salvage yard, researcher extraordinaire, and a kickass hunter, Bobby has a criminal defense law practice in the great state of Missouri?"

"Really?"

"No, dumbass." Dean rolled his eyes. "It's a cover we came up with while I was fixing up the Impala. He came up with the identity and fake office phone number. He had some guy named Ash create the letter." He pushed his still shocked brother down the hall. "Sometimes I wonder how the hell you got into college."


End file.
